


Alight

by astrogirl91



Category: Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom
Genre: Actor Chris Evans, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bearded Chris Evans, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Romance, Smut, Top Chris Evans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25620187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrogirl91/pseuds/astrogirl91
Summary: Part two of an ongoing romance series about Chris Evans and Dodger's groomer, Brianna Walsh (OFC). Sequel to Puppy Love. Contains explicit sexual content, some angst, and mentions of self-harm and drug addiction.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Alight

**Author's Note:**

> Puppy Love was received better than I expected! I was extremely nervous about finally sharing my writing, and even though it only has a few reads so far I'm happy to have any readers at all. Thank you to everyone who has read it and given me kudos and feedback. :) One person said they want more and I'm hoping others will too eventually, so I thought I should post the sequel now and see how it goes. This part and all of the rest to follow are significantly more smutty...I hope it's enjoyable!

Chris laced his fingers through mine, and we slowly swung our arms back and forth as we walked through the woods. I looked over at him smiling at me with that joyful glimmer in his blue eyes which made my heart skip a beat every time, and I smiled back. Dodger trotted off the beaten path ahead, sniffing through the blades of grass. He stopped and turned his head to look back at us, as if to say: “Come on humans, hurry! There's so many good smells ahead!”

The air was finally cooling off as the sun dipped down behind the trees and twilight was slowly coming to an end, but it was still thick with humidity and the residual heat of the day. The woods were completely silent except for the sound of crickets chirping, and the rustling of the grass beneath our feet as we ambled on.

It was the Fourth of July and we had just come from Chris' childhood home, where we spent most of the day barbecuing and mingling with the entire Evans clan. He and I had seen each other nearly every day since the reveal of our feelings for one another; Chris was taking time off work indefinitely, and I lightened up my own schedule to give myself more free time. I finally had something to do other than work ten hours a day, so why not? It had been going well for us – almost _too_ well, my anxiety liked to think – and after a month of dating, I finally felt comfortable with the idea of meeting his family.

I had been a wreck of nerves about meeting them – his mother in particular based on how Chris spoke of her intensely protective nature – but they were all exceptionally warm and welcoming to me. The moment we walked through the door, his sisters and brother greeted me with bear hugs as if they'd known me for years, then teased and embarrassed Chris mercilessly.

“So you're Dodger's groomer who Chris has been talking about for months! He lit up like a Christmas tree every time he had some new story about you to tell us.” “We couldn't get him to shut up about you. I kept telling him 'just ask her out already, you fucking meatball!'” “It's so great to finally meet the girl who's made him as happy as the Pats winning the Super Bowl.” Chris laughed and was a good sport about it, but his cheeks were flushed red the entire time.

Even his nephews and niece were instantly welcoming to me. The little girl Stella was particularly taken with me, and spent most of the afternoon following me around.

“Are you a princess? You look just like Belle,” she said with a smile as she sat on my lap and tried to braid a lock of my hair. “Your eyes are the wrong color, but you still look like her.”

I laughed. I always thought my only unique trait – before Chris came along and found something new about me every day to gush over – was my heterochromia. I was born with a green right eye, while my left eye was a hazel mix of blue, brown, and green.

“No, I'm sorry to say I'm not a princess,” I replied.

“That's right, she's not a princess. She's a queen,” Chris said, suddenly appearing behind me. He knelt down and kissed my cheek. I turned my head to see him grinning boyishly at me; I blushed slightly as I smiled back at him.

“The burgers are ready now, by the way. I think I only burned half of them.” He stood up, picked up Stella, and flipped her upside down. “Come on, space invader. Give her a break. I finally found a girlfriend and you're already trying to scare her off!”

Stella giggled as he swung her around. “No, I'm not. I want Auntie Bree to stay forever.”

Chris had only occasionally left my side the entire day, asking multiple times if I was okay and making sure I wasn't too overwhelmed. My nerves calmed down when I saw that I had seemingly impressed all of them, including Mama Evans herself. There was a moderate interrogation from her throughout the day – she asked me dozens of questions, to the point where Chris eventually cut in and told his beloved mother to take it easy. By the end of the evening Lisa was apparently satisfied, and gave me a tight hug, smiled sincerely, and said: “You're wonderful, my dear. Please stop by any time.”

It was a school night for the kids, and Chris decided we should take Dodger back home before his paralyzing fear of the annual canine apocalypse set in, so the evening ended early with some sparklers at sunset instead of the illegal fireworks that had been promised. Although it was a fun day, we were both ready for some alone time – but before we went back to his house, we stopped for a walk in the woods nearby to finish watching the sunset through the trees.

“Are you _sure_ your mom likes me?” I asked him, breaking the silence.

He laughed. “Yes, I am absolutely sure. Trust me, if she didn't like you, you would definitely know. And everyone else likes you too, so don't start fretting about my family.”

“I'm just a little worried they thought I was a bitch for not saying much unless they spoke to me first. It wouldn't be the first time my quietness gave people the wrong impression.”

“Nah, if anything they like that about you. We're loud enough already with each other, as you saw, and...well, let's just say I've had girlfriends in the past who always had to be the fucking center of attention. Those ones they didn't like so much.” He squeezed my hand and smiled at me reassuringly. “You're good with them. Trust me.”

“Okay.” I smiled.

“So you're feeling alright about today? It wasn't too much?”

“No, not too much at all. I feel great.” I stopped, then held his face and stroked his cropped ginger-tinted beard with my thumbs. I kissed him gently and smiled. “More than great. I'm happy. Completely, perfectly happy.”

He smiled brightly. “So am I.”

After walking for several more minutes, we turned around and started heading back to the car, with Dodger once again boldly leading the way off-leash. Our dates so far had mostly consisted of activities such as twilight strolls through the woods, some hikes and trips to the park with Dodger, and a lot of staying in at either my house or his. I started referring to them as Takeout and Makeout Nights, because that was exactly what we did: order takeout, attempt to watch a movie, then get distracted grabbing ass and playing tonsil hockey. Even on our birthdays – only three days apart from each other, his on the thirteenth and mine on the tenth – we celebrated turning thirty-eight and thirty-one by just lounging around at home with Dodger, before we kicked him out of the room for another horny teenager makeout session.

We made good on our commitment to take things slow, and still hadn't actually had sex – sort of. I started giving Chris head a couple weeks into our courtship because I just couldn't resist anymore, and if his responses each time were any indication, I hadn't lost my talent after nearly three years of celibacy, which made me damn proud of myself. But every time Chris offered to reciprocate, I denied him.

I feared growing even more attached to him, letting him over the walls around my heart which I knew any further intimacy would inevitably cause, but it wasn't entirely that. I had casually dated only a few guys after my grandmother died, since I had no interest in romance once I started my business – until Chris came into the picture and I finally wanted my several years of singledom to end.

Ultimately, I knew that despite my anxiety I was ready to dive back into the craziness of love. I ignored and squashed down my thoughts as usual, but I had caught myself thinking a couple times over the past month: _Do I really love him?_ _Yes. No. Maybe? Yes, I do...I've loved him for months. Should I tell him? Yes. No, no fucking way. Not yet..._

So it wasn't necessarily just the fear of love and attachment which made me glad we hadn't acted impulsively that day in my truck; it was because the more I thought about it, the more anxious I became about him actually seeing my body. I had a massive insecurity and fear of judgment from others who saw too much of me, but not for the usual reasons most people would assume.

“Bree, can I ask you something?” Chris spoke softly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Why haven't you told me more about your family?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know we've only been dating for a month – well, one month and three days now.”

“You're keeping track of the exact number of days?” I grinned at him. “That's so...high school.”

He sighed and chuckled. “Anyway, what I was getting at is: I know we haven't been dating for very long, so I don't expect you to spill your guts to me right away or anything like that, but I've been wondering why you still haven't talked much about your family.”

I shrugged. “There's not much else to tell. I told you about my evil grandmother, and my aunts and uncles who are distant and mostly uninterested in my existence. You know I don't have any siblings. I guess I'm kind of a big sister to some of my cousins, but I don't see them often. I told you my dad died in a car accident when I was nine, and I'm estranged from my mom. What else do you want to know?”

“Mostly about your mom. Why are you estranged from her?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. I knew this conversation was eventually going to come up, especially from a mama's boy like Chris. “We just...never got along, I guess.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

I thought for a moment. “When I was twenty-two. It was right before I moved out here.”

Chris pulled me to a stop. “You haven't seen your mother in _nine years?”_

“Yeah, but I still talk to her on the phone...at Christmas.”

He looked at me sadly. “Jesus, I didn't think it was that bad. I just...I can't even imagine not having my mom in my life. It breaks my heart that you don't have yours around.”

My eyes welled up slightly, and I blinked the tears away. “Yeah, well, it wasn't really my choice.”

Chris held my hand more tightly as we resumed walking. A few minutes of silence passed. “If you don't mind me asking, what happened between you two? I can tell there's a lot more to the story than you just never got along with her.”

I stopped walking and looked at my feet for a moment to collect myself. “We always had kind of a strained relationship. I was much closer to my dad when I was little. He was a guitarist, and always played for me and sang me to sleep. He loved me so much, took care of me so well...I was the most precious thing on Earth to him. I still miss him every single day. He was an amazing dad.”

I choked back more tears, then sighed. “But my mom...she had a ton of mental problems, and after I lived with my grandma for almost seven years, I can see why.” I laughed bitterly. “I know the abuse from her own parents really damaged my mom. She ran away to San Francisco when she was eighteen, because she always dreamed about being an artist, and she was one for a little while. Then she met my dad and I came along next – and she always regretted it. Everything got worse after my dad died. My mom met some stupid new boyfriend, and we moved with him to the shittiest part of Sacramento. He would hit her, then the next boyfriend did too, then the next one after that. She started drinking and doing drugs – a lot of them.”

I paused and looked off into the distance. Dodger had found a patch of cool grass to lay down on a few yards away, and he was looking at me with his soft brown doe eyes. Something in his gaze was reassuring, encouraging me to continue telling Chris my story.

“Fortunately I was never beaten or anything like that, and I didn't go hungry – most of the time, anyway. It could have been a lot worse, but it was still hell to be around her. I was completely depressed, I was always afraid...I hated my fucking life. I tried to help my mom and take care of her, but I couldn't do it. I was just a kid. So I stayed away from home as much as possible. After school I'd go to the library and read until they closed, or I'd stay at friends' houses, sleep on their couch for a couple weeks at a time. They knew something was wrong, but I'd always make up some lie about why I left home again. I was fourteen when one of the moms finally asked me if everything was okay. She saw...” I looked away so he wouldn't see me fighting to hold back my tears.

Chris squeezed my hand a little tighter. “You don't have to tell me more if you don't want to.”

“No, I want to tell you.” I paused for a moment; my chest tightened with the fear of revealing something to him that very few people in my life had ever known about. I was terrified of what he would think: that I'm damaged goods, that I'm batshit crazy like my mother. But I knew sooner or later, I would have to tell him – or show him, rather. We couldn't continue not having sex forever, if only because of the part of me that had been dying to finally consummate our relationship.

“My friend's mom accidentally walked in on me changing into my pajamas one night, and she saw these.” I took my hand away from his, stepped back a foot, and unzipped my jeans.

Chris stared at me in confusion as I began to tug them down. “Bree, what the hell are you doing?” He looked around anxiously, making sure we were indeed alone in the woods.

I pulled my jeans down to just above my knees and finally revealed my secret to him. The tops and insides of both my upper thighs were marked with several scars – white slashes that, despite how pale my skin was, still stood out in harsh unforgiving lines.

Chris' eyes welled up with tears as he looked at them. I let him stare for a few minutes.

“At the time they were still red and bloody, so she was concerned, to say the least. I was always too scared to try anything like shooting heroin or drinking, after seeing what all of that shit did to my mom, so I picked this instead to make myself feel better. I did it where it was easiest to hide, but...I still couldn't hide it forever.” I tugged my jeans back up to my hips and zipped them up, then awkwardly fiddled with my hands.

“Bree...” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around me, squeezed me hard, and kissed my forehead. “Bree, I'm so sorry. Please don't ever do that to yourself again.”

I pressed the side of my face into his chest and gripped his back tightly. “I won't. I haven't even wanted to try it again since I was a teenager.”

“How did you finally get out of that nightmare?” He asked me quietly.

“I told that mom what had been going on – I just needed to finally say something to someone, I guess – then she told the school counselor, then he called CPS. I was put in foster care. The day I left, my mom told me she was glad. She told me she wished she'd never had me, that I ruined her life, and...she was happy I was finally going away.”

Chris stiffened up and breathed in sharply. “That fucking bitch...” He muttered angrily through clenched teeth.

“I was fortunate enough to be put in a good foster home with an elderly couple. They both passed away a few years ago, and sometimes I miss them. They were kind to me, but never told me they loved me. I guess they did in their own way, but I wasn't their first foster kid, so I always felt like I was just another poor unfortunate soul passing through their house. But they did treat me well – they took me to a therapist to help with my issues, and I started to recover from everything...and there was a dog too. He was an old Labrador named Lucky.” I smiled at the memory of him. “He loved me right away, and slept in my bed every night. That was when I discovered how much I love and need dogs in my life. They helped me find and keep my sanity. Even after I moved here, I volunteered at an animal shelter whenever I had the time, just so I could still be around dogs.”

I sniffled and rubbed the tears out of my eyes, then looked up at Chris. “Anyway, I lived with my foster parents until I moved out here. When I turned eighteen they offered to let me stay with them as long as I paid rent. I couldn't afford college, and I didn't want to go anyway. So I got a job washing dogs at a grooming shop instead, and those people taught me how to be a groomer, and I just did that until I left California when I was twenty-two.”

Chris nodded, visibly absorbing everything I was telling him. “What did you tell your mom the last time you saw her?”

“Not much. We had barely reconnected the year before. She finally got sober, we met for coffee a few times, tried to pretend nothing had ever happened. All I told her was that her sister called me and said they needed help, I was moving to Massachusetts to take care of her mom, and I wasn't coming back. She told me I would be much happier out here. That was it.”

I paused and laughed quietly. “What I _didn't_ tell her is the aunt who called me finally found out what happened when I was a teenager. She spent almost an hour ranting about what an awful person my mother is. She felt horrible and wanted to give me a fresh start. It was about seven years too late, and I didn't realize at the time she was really just looking for someone else to unload her abusive senile mother onto, but...”

I shrugged. “At least someone in my family finally acted like they gave a shit. I never met my grandmother before I moved here, but I knew how nasty she was. But...I still felt sorry for her, in a way. Nobody else in the family was going to help. I felt like it was my responsibility. And I wanted to get as far away as I could from my mom and California and my whole fucked up past, so I volunteered to move to Salem and take care of her.” I sighed and gave him a small smile. “And now here we are.”

He nodded. I could tell he was still in furious disbelief about the entire story of my past. “Has your mom ever apologized to you?”

“Yeah, sorta. When I talked to her last Christmas, she said she let me down and failed as a mother. I told her yes, she did. Then she just started rambling about how much she hates the traffic in California. That's the closest I'll ever get to an apology.”

Chris' jaw clenched, then relaxed as the anger in his expression faded to sadness. “I'm just...I'm so sorry, Bree. I can't believe you had to go through all of that. No parent should ever be that awful to their own child. I hope you know you didn't deserve it – _any_ of it.”

I shrugged. “I know, but it happened nonetheless, and I can't do anything about it. It's in the past now. All I can do is look towards the future.” I held both of his hands, laced my fingers through his, and looked up at him with a small smile. “I just hope whatever is ahead, it'll be good.”

Chris smiled, then kissed my forehead. “It will be.” He wrapped his arms around me, and we stood in silence for several moments. I pressed the side of my face against his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.

“Is that why you haven't wanted to have sex?” He asked quietly. “I mean, there's no rush – really, there isn't. I've just been wondering why you were so eager to give but never _receive_ , if you catch my drift.”

I looked up at him and smiled slightly. “I catch it. Yeah, it is. I've been scared of what you would think whenever you finally saw me naked. I'm still pretty ashamed of them. I'm always worried people will think they're ugly, but...I've been more afraid of what you would think of _me_ because of it.”

Chris held my face and kissed me gently. “What I think of you is that you're an incredibly fucking strong, resilient, and _brave_ woman. I already knew you were, but this just reaffirms it.”

My eyes welled up. “I promise you I'm nothing like my mom. I'm not damaged goods.”

“Bree, listen to me: I know you aren't, but even if you were, I still wouldn't think any differently of you. I would take care of you. I'd help you unpack all of that fucking baggage and throw it away.” He smiled at me as a few tears finally escaped my eyes and fell down my cheeks; he stroked them away with his thumbs.

I smiled back at him. “That means more to me than I could say. I just...I've always been afraid that nobody would believe me when I say I'm not like her. People think the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know? But I made it a point to wake up every morning and tell myself I'd never turn into her. I told myself if I ever have kids, I would raise them right. I would do a better job than she did...and I would actually be _happy_ with my life.”

“I know you will. I believe you.” He kissed me again and smiled. “Let's go home.” Chris looked over at Dodger still lounging on the patch of cool grass off in the distance, then whistled. “Bubba! Come on, we're going home.” Dodger sprang up and galloped over to us as we resumed walking back to the car.

As Chris loaded him up into the backseat and buckled him into his seat belt, I hung back for a moment to admire the trees and twilight sky one more time. When I turned around, I saw Dodger's head sticking out of the open window and Chris leaning against the door, scratching him behind his ears. Dodger panted happily and looked up at him adoringly; Chris was smiling and quietly murmuring something to him. All I could make out as I approached the car was: “You really think she does?”

“What are you two conspiring about?” I asked with a grin.

“Oh...nothing.” Chris smiled, then gave Dodger a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks, buddy.” I heard him whisper to his mutt, then he took my hand, walked me around to the passenger side, and opened the door for me.

While Chris drove us the remaining few minutes back home, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee, squeezing it gently. I placed my hand on top of his and smiled to myself. Relief washed over me; I was finally freed of the enormous weight that my secret had been burdening me with. I sighed quietly in contentment – then giggled when Dodger poked his head between the front seats and licked the side of my face.

When we arrived back at the house, Dodger went to the living room – where his favorite stuffed lion waited to be chewed on – while we immediately headed for the bedroom to kick off our sneakers and change into something more comfortable. Both of us were so lazy and apathetic about fashion, we spent the majority of our time together in pajamas or sweatpants, and tonight would be no different.

I pulled my pajamas out of the dresser drawer and unfolded them on the bed. We had been alternating staying over with each other – a few nights at my place, a few nights at his – and recently began keeping some of our things at the other's house.

Chris chuckled at me unfolding my clothes. “I'll never stop admiring the fact you're thirty-one and still wear The Little Mermaid PJ's.”

“Excuse me, but they're _Ursula_ PJ's,” I said, grinning as I pointed to my favorite sea witch printed on the cotton pants. “And you're one to talk. You still wear Winnie the Pooh boxers. You're lucky any woman has ever wanted to have sex with you at all.”

He laughed and grabbed my waist. “Come here, you brat.” He kissed me softly, then brushed a stray lock of my hair away from my face. A devilish look crossed his face as he smirked at me. “I'm going to hop in the shower. You want to join me?”

“Do I reek that bad?” I grinned at him.

Chris chuckled, then looked down bashfully. “Not at all. I was just thinking...you know...”

I blushed and looked away. Despite the worst part being over by finally showing him my scars, I was still nervous – shy, even – about showing him the rest of me. I looked up at him with a small smile. “Maybe later. I'm just going to change into my pajamas.”

“Alright, sweetie.” He smiled sincerely and kissed my forehead before he went into the adjacent bathroom. “I'll be out in a couple minutes. Don't run off anywhere.”

 _God, how the hell does he have a never-ending supply of patience with me? How did I get so damn lucky?_ I couldn't help but sigh dreamily at his unwavering chivalrous treatment of me.

I sat on the bed and fiddled with my hands as I listened to the shower running and the muffled sound of him humming a song. I wasn't much of a musical person beyond Disney cartoons, but I recognized the tune as something from West Side Story – one of the films I was forced to sit through recently. Our agreement was if he had to watch all of my favorite campy old horror movies with me, then I had to watch all of his favorite Broadway musicals with him.

I shook my head and laughed quietly. My heart swelled at the knowledge that such an absolutely lovable goof, a theater geek trapped inside the body of an action hero, was actually mine. This man who treated me better – not just over the past month, but for the entire duration of the time we've known each other – than anyone else I had ever known in my life, even my foster parents, was mine alone. And he didn't just treat me well, he treated me as if he really did think I'm a queen. I had to shake myself to remember this was real life and I hadn't crossed over into the Twilight Zone.

 _Come on, Bree. You know he's going to love every inch of you. He's given you no reason at all to doubt that...and you know you want to show him. Just do it already..._ I thought.

After a few minutes, the water turned off and Chris emerged from the bathroom. Water droplets were scattered across his chest and dripping down to his abs; the towel wrapped around his waist was low enough to show a peek of his Adonis belt. He ran his hands through his wet messy hair, still kept long and shaggy just for me. I smirked and bit my lower lip at the sight of him; the lust he incited made me glad that I had just decided to finally strip down for him.

He looked perplexed for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at me. “I thought you were going to change into your pajamas?”

“I was. But...then I decided I want to do it in front of you.” I stood up, slowly pulled my tee shirt over my head, unzipped my jeans, slid both them and my panties down my legs, and unclasped my bra. I let all of the garments fall to the floor and stood before him, letting him take me all in. I smiled shyly, and felt my entire body begin to flush with heat.

Chris looked me up and down several times – his expression a mixture of lust and wonderment – then smirked. “Turn around,” he said lowly.

I did as he commanded. A moment later I felt him walk up behind me and gently grab my ass, kneading it with both hands, before they slid around to my torso and up to my small breasts, grasping each of them. His breath was hot on the back of my neck as he placed a soft kiss there. He moved one hand down to my groin and ran his fingers across my small bare mound; I knew he sometimes enjoyed that aesthetic, so I had gotten into the habit of shaving regularly, just in case the moment finally struck. I shivered and whimpered quietly at the touch of his fingers – respectfully staying above my clit, waiting for my permission to go lower.

“You look _exactly_ how I imagined. You're absolutely gorgeous. You're perfect,” he whispered in my ear.

I turned around and smiled at him, then looked down and couldn't help but giggle; he had already grown rock hard. “I guess this whole time I've just wasted my energy being anxious about you seeing me naked.”

“Yes. You were worried about nothing.” Chris grinned. He untucked the towel around his waist and tossed it to the side. I had already more or less seen him nude – having his shirt off and his cock out through unzipped pants for a blowjob counted in my book – but finally seeing him completely in the flesh, as vulnerable as I was in that moment, was a new and exhilarating experience.

He held my face and kissed me deeply, slipping his tongue into my mouth and stroking it against mine, then gazed at me with a fixated, hungry look in his eyes. I knew he was silently asking for more.

I trembled slightly. I wanted to more than anything, but the anxiety of him finally seeing my scars, and now my entire body, had already been replaced with anxiety about allowing him to fully take me. _How much more attached will I get? I already love him, but if I have sex with him, then I'm truly done for. Fuck, there's no going back from here. He said he was all in, but...what if all this time he's just been a very patient wolf?_

I tried to calm myself by stroking the white scar at the base of his throat, just above his clavicle, then moved my hands down to his chest and started tracing over the lines of his tattoos – starting at the bird in flight on his right side, and moving across to the lines of text inked onto the left. I slowly ran my fingertips down his torso, following the contours of all his muscles, until I reached the line of his Adonis belt. He closed his eyes and sighed at my touch, clutching my hips tightly and pulling me even closer to him.

Just as I was about to move my hand down lower, impulsively grasp his cock that was pressed up against me, tell him to throw me on the bed and fuck me senseless, I faltered. A wave of panic washed over me. I was torn between anxiety and desire; the raging lust inside me had been dying to have him for months, and now that it was finally here, I was scared to go through with it.

_No. No, you can't do this, Bree. You're already too in love with him. Don't do it unless you know he is too. Just suck his cock again later, that should keep him happy for a little while longer...until you figure out if it's safe for you to finally let him in..._

I stepped back from him and looked down. “I'm sorry,” I said softly as I picked up my pajamas from the bed and clutched them sheepishly in front of me, trying to cover myself.

A hint of disappointment crossed his face, but he still smiled at me. “Please don't be. I told you there's no rush, and I mean it.” He rubbed my back gently and kissed my forehead.

I slowly lowered my arms and the bundle of clothes, feeling somewhat reassured by him. I smiled shyly as I quickly pulled on my tank top and pants, while he retrieved a navy tee and a pair of boxers from the dresser. He looked at me with a sad smile as he dressed himself – wincing slightly as he tucked his still semi-erect cock down to his right.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. It's just...I feel like a dumbass.”

“Why?”

“Because I've been wondering why you always wear long pants even when it's a thousand degrees outside, and why you still hadn't let me see you even change clothes, and I just...never put two and two together.”

“Don't feel like that. I wasn't expecting you to figure it out, and I wouldn't have wanted you to anyway.” I wrung my hands together. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I didn't trust you.”

Chris wrapped me in his arms. “I would be lying if I said I didn't wish you told me sooner, but it's not about trust. It's not about me at all. You told me when _you_ were ready to.” He looked down at me and smiled. “And we have all the time in the world to learn everything about each other.”

“You're right.” I smiled back at him.

A loud bang suddenly went off outside, immediately followed by Dodger's panicked barking, and the sound of him scrambling and slipping on the wood floor.

“ _Shit_ , I forgot to put him in his crate before the fireworks started.” Chris jogged out to the living room. I went to my purse and dug a glass vial out of the bottom, then followed him. Dodger was crouched down low and trembling like a leaf in a corner of the living room. Chris murmured reassurances to him and stroked his back.

“Come on, Bubba. Let's go into your hidey-hole where it's safe.” He tugged on his collar to get Dodger – paralyzed by fear – back on his feet, and had to all but drag him across the floor to his crate on the opposite side of the room. Dodger bolted to the back of his den as soon as he reached the door.

“Poor thing,” I said, kneeling down and reaching my hand inside. He licked my fingers and whined. “You'll be alright, Lovebug. It's just the semi-annual apocalypse.”

Chris shook his head and sighed. “He gets worse about the fireworks every year. I've tried just about everything to help him chill out, but nothing seems to work. I don't know what else to do.”

“Try this.” I uncorked the glass vial and handed it to him.

“What's that?”

“Lavender, petitgrain, and chamomile oil. It's a blend I make and carry with me sometimes. It should help calm him down and sedate him a little bit.” I raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. “I had to put some of it on myself before meeting your mother.”

“So that's why you smelled different today.” He laughed. “You do it, sweetie. I don't know what to do with that stuff.”

“Oh come on, you're not that dumb, are you?” I grinned at him, then poured a couple drops into the palm of my hand. I rubbed my hands together and reached into the crate to gently massage Dodger's chest and neck, slowly working it into his fur and skin in large circles. Within a couple of minutes, he relaxed his body and laid down, despite the sound of fireworks still going off outside.

“All better now.” I rubbed him behind the ears as he closed his eyes and exhaled.

Chris laughed quietly. “Wow, you _are_ a witch.”

“I am not! It's just essential oils and a little bit of massage.”

He grinned at me as he closed the door and draped a blanket over the crate. “ _Sure._ ”

I set the vial aside and grabbed Chris' hand. “Come on, I want to see the fireworks. It's my first time actually celebrating a holiday since I moved here.”

“What? Are you serious?” He asked as we stepped out into the backyard. “How the hell have you lived here for a decade and never celebrated any holidays?”

“I never had anyone to celebrate them with.” I smiled at him as we sat down together on the wicker patio sofa. “Not anyone that I cared about, anyway.”

“Well, then you are in for a real treat for every holiday from here on out – _especially_ Christmas. Just you wait and see.” Chris grinned, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me against him. I rested my head on his chest and placed my hand on his torso. Two bright red and blue fireworks appeared with a bang above the treeline surrounding the yard, but just as the patriotic display began, I noticed a different and more breathtaking sight.

I sat up and tapped him on the shoulder. “Look, babe.”

Off in the distance a few fireflies began to appear, gleaming bright gold as they hovered above the grass. More started to gradually come to life, until hundreds of them were floating in between the trees and all across the expansive grass lawn. I gasped quietly.

“Oh, wow,” Chris whispered.

I smiled in amazement. “I've never seen so many of them at once...they're beautiful.”

He took my hand in his and gently squeezed it. I looked over at him, and we smiled brightly at one another. We leaned back onto the sofa together, and all but ignored the neighborhood's loud display of fireworks going off in the sky; instead we gazed at the fireflies glimmering across the yard, his arms wrapped snugly around me as I laid against him.

After a couple of hours the fireworks finally ceased, and the fireflies slowly started to disappear. I sighed in contentment. I had eventually altered my position to laying stretched out on the sofa with my head in his lap, while he stroked and played with my hair.

“Thank you,” Chris said quietly as he rubbed my back with one hand and twirled around a lock of my hair with the other.

“For what?”

“For letting me see you earlier.”

I sat up. “You're not mad at me for being a cock tease yet again?”

“Well, you _are_ a tease, but I would never be mad about that. I actually like it.” He grinned. “I'm just happy you let me in a little more tonight. I know it was really damn scary for you, so thank you for doing that for me.”

I smiled. “Thank _you_ for helping give me the courage to do it.” I kissed him, then snuggled up to him again and placed my head on his chest. Even with the summer heat, I wanted nothing more than to just be as close to him as possible.

He squeezed me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “Bree, there's something I want to tell you.”

“Yeah?” I looked up at him.

“I...” Chris looked back at me with an ecstatic glimmer in his eyes, but there was anxiety lurking in his gaze too.

“Well, what is it, meatball?” I grinned at him.

He let out a quiet nervous laugh. “I love...”

My heart skipped several beats.

“...being here with you. Just you, right now. I don't want to be anywhere else other than right here, in this moment, with you.” Chris smiled at me. The look in his eyes told me what he truly wanted to say, but I knew his own fears were holding him back.

I smiled at him. _He's just as anxious as I am about it...but it's there for him. It's there. I'm safe now...I'm safe with him._ I held his face and stroked his beard with my fingertips, then kissed him. He nuzzled my nose when I slowly parted my mouth from his. “I love being here with you too,” I whispered.

I stood up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. “I want to go to bed now.”

“You do? But it's barely midnight.”

“Not to sleep,” I said with a coy smile.

Chris looked perplexed for a moment, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “ _Oh_...okay.” He grinned. “Are you sure?”

I nodded and smiled at him. “Yes. Absolutely sure.”

We walked back through the house, stopping in the living room first to check on Dodger. “You still alive, Bubba?” Chris said as he lifted up the blanket over his crate and knelt down to open the door.

Dodger was curled up asleep in the back, the oil blend seemingly still effective. At the sound of Chris' voice he opened his eyes and yawned, then slowly crawled towards us. His ears were pinned flat against his head and worry filled his eyes.

“It's okay Lovebug, the apocalypse is over now,” I said, scratching him behind his ears when he finally emerged from his den. “We made it out alive.”

He placed one of his paws on Chris' knee and licked his face, then turned to me and licked my face too. A final stray firework went off with a low boom in the distance; Dodger immediately retreated to the back of his crate, burrowing into the safety of his blankets once more. Chris shook his head and laughed quietly as he closed the crate door again.

“Poor guy. At least this is the calmest he's ever been on the Fourth, thanks to your magic.”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

Chris stood up and took my hand. “To me, it's everything.”

I smiled at him and we walked back to the bedroom. I was overcome with both nerves and excitement as I pulled back the sheets on the bed and laid down. Chris closed the bedroom door, then joined me.

“I just want to cuddle for a while first,” I said.

Chris gave me a reassuring smile. “Of course.” He wrapped his arms around my torso as I rolled onto my side. I leaned back into him, curling up in the safety of his hard-muscled arms. I heard him breathe in the scent of my hair as he nuzzled the back of my head.

We laid together in silence for several minutes. I calmed my remaining nerves by listening to the steady sound of his breathing, stroking the silky soft skin of his hands, absorbing the heat radiating from him like a furnace. When I was finally ready to take the plunge, I placed my hand on top of his that was resting flat on my stomach, and moved it up to the left side of my chest. He gave my breast a gentle squeeze and kissed the back of my neck. I exhaled.

“I'm a little nervous. It's been a while,” I said, then laughed quietly. “Well, a while for everything except sucking cock, obviously.”

Chris chuckled. “It's okay, sweetie. You just tell me what you want.” He moved his hand from my breast over to my arm and stroked down the length of it with his fingertips, then back up again. “What do you want me to do first?” He whispered.

I shivered at the sensation of his fingers slowly going up and down my arm. “Just touch me...everywhere.”

Chris ran his hand from my arm down to my hips, then thighs, before moving back up again. He stopped to knead my ass firmly for several moments – murmuring in my ear how perfect it is – then slid both hands around to my front and traveled up to my breasts, caressing each of them. I grabbed the back of his head and clutched his hair as he began to plant gentle kisses across the back of my neck, the side of my throat, and down to my shoulder. I moaned softly as I felt his cock – which had long since grown completely hard – press into the small of my back.

He slowly moved one hand from my breasts down to the waistband of my pajamas. His fingers lingered above the hem, softly stroking my skin.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Chris whispered.

“Yes.” I sighed as his hand slipped underneath the waistband, his fingers sliding over my smooth bare skin and down to my pussy – slick and aching and waiting impatiently for him.

“ _Fuck..._ ” Chris moaned. “God, Bree, you're so fucking wet already.”

I gasped as he gently ran his thumb over my swollen clit. “It's only for you.”

“Good. It better be.” He nipped at my ear, then pushed his hard cock against my ass. “You feel that, honey? What you do to me? It's only for you too.”

“Chris...I want...” My words caught in my throat, and I moaned as he pressed down on my clit.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He whispered in my ear, nibbling on my lobe as his fingers continued to stroke me. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want more,” I whispered.

Without hesitation he slipped two fingers inside of me, moving them in and out as his thumb dexterously stroked my clit.

I dug my nails into the back of his head. “I want _you_. I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

“Don't you worry, I will. But first...” Chris slowly pulled his fingers out of me, sat up, and rolled me onto my back. He yanked off his shirt and smirked. “You still haven't let me make you cum. It's my turn now to treat you.”

He slid my pants down and off my legs in one quick motion, then slowly ran his hands from my ankles up to my knees, stopping there to spread my legs apart. I shivered and sighed at the sensation of his soft warm hands sliding over my smooth skin.

“You're so damn beautiful, Bree,” he said quietly as he looked me up and down, taking in every inch of me. “I've been waiting so long for this, to finally see you...and _hear_ you.”

I smiled shyly and bit my lower lip. “I'm not usually very loud.”

Chris gave me a cocky smile. “That's okay. You will be with me.”

He slowly slid his hands all the way up my legs and ran his fingertips over my scars, then moved down and nuzzled my inner thighs, placing soft kisses all over the white lines on my skin.

“They're not hideous,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well, they're not pretty eith-”

Chris suddenly moved up over me and kissed me hard on the mouth, stifling the rest of my sentence. “ _Stop that._ Stop cutting yourself down. Everything about you is gorgeous, you hear me?”

I gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I hear you.”

He kissed me again, then brushed his thumb across my lower lip. “I don't ever want to hear you say another mean thing about yourself. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded.

His fingers trailed from my lips down the center of my throat, my chest, and kept going until he reached the bottom hem of my tank top. He slid his hands underneath and pulled it up – helping me shimmy out of it – then tossed it aside.

Chris moved back down between my thighs and pulled my legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of each of my thighs again, then suddenly his mouth was on me. I gasped and grabbed at his hair, clutching it tightly and instinctively pulling him in even closer. He gripped one of my thighs and held it against his shoulder, locking me in place against his warm mouth and tickling beard; with his other hand he slid two fingers inside me again.

It didn't take long for me to completely fall apart for him. Within minutes of his hot slick tongue stroking every inch of me, flicking across my clit while his fingers deftly worked in and out of me, I was pulling on his hair and raking my nails across his back so hard I left bright red claw marks. Chris groaned at the sensation, but I knew it wasn't out of discomfort; he _wanted_ me to leave evidence of the ecstasy he was unleashing on me.

He wasn't just being arrogant when he said I'd be loud for him, either. My usual soft whimpers and inhalations turned into shrieks and moans that were so loud, I was glad his neighbors were at a bit of a distance. When I came, I kept screaming his name as I pulled and clawed at him. I couldn't help it; it was like a small earthquake rocking every inch of my body – way better than any orgasm my hand and imagination had ever given me.

I felt lightheaded and my hands tingled as I started to come back down from the blast of endorphins. When I opened my eyes, I was seeing dots until my vision came back into focus. The first thing I saw was him sitting up over me, licking his lips and wiping his beard clean with the back of his hand. He grinned at me. “God, you taste so fucking delicious. How was it for you, sweetie?”

I laughed in between heavy breaths. “I don't think I even have the words to describe it.”

“Good,” he said lowly. “That's what I'm gonna do to you every single night from now on. My day won't be complete until I make you cum like that. It's what you deserve.”

Chris positioned himself on top of me again and stroked the center of my throat with the tip of his nose, moving upward until he reached my lips and kissed me gently. I could still smell and taste myself on his mouth and in his beard. I licked his bottom lip and nibbled on it, making him groan.

I slid my hand down into his boxers, caressing his soft skin kept bare like my own. I grasped his cock, slick with streams of precum and throbbing so much it seemed almost painful, then tugged his boxers down just enough to free him. He closed his eyes and moaned as I slowly stroked him.

“Do you still want me, sweetheart?” Chris whispered.

“Yes. _Please_.”

He took off his boxers so quickly he nearly ripped them, then reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, tore it open, and rolled it on. He positioned himself over me again, propping himself up on one arm as he reached down to guide his cock against me, lingering there and teasing me for several seconds.

“Bree...” Chris said softly. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you inside me, Chris.” I whimpered.

Without hesitation he thrust into me, moaning my name as he eased in slowly for both of us to savor every second. I gasped and gripped his back, digging my nails into his skin. It had been so long since my last time, the sensation felt incredible and at the same time reminded me of losing my virginity all over again. He was above average in size, and with the sudden stretching of a muscle not used in years, I felt a sharp sting as he moved deep into me.

He paused, staying still inside me for several moments as he looked into my eyes; I stared back into his bright blue-green pools, filled with pure joy. More than a year of gradually building sexual tension between us was finally broken, and I couldn't help but smile brightly.

Chris smiled back at me. “Fuck, you feel _amazing_ , Bree. I can't believe I'm not dreaming right now.” He gently kissed my throat, then pushed deeper inside me.

“Ow!” I winced and breathed in sharply.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. It's just...like I said, it's been a while.”

“We don't have to keep going if you don't want to.” He stroked the side of my face.

I grinned at him. “Fuck no, we're not stopping. I've been waiting too long for this. I'm tougher than I look.”

Chris smiled at me. “I'll still be gentle with you. I don't want...” He paused.

“Don't want what?”

“I don't really want this to be... _fucking_.”

I looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Chris shook his head and laughed quietly. “God, I feel like such a cheesy bastard right now. What I mean is...when I thought about it, I realized that I don't want to, you know, get rough and dirty or anything like that tonight – that can come later.” He grinned. “What I really want to do tonight is make love to you.”

My heart fluttered at his sentiment. “You really are a cheesy bastard.” I smiled and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I'd like that. To be honest, I would like just about anything as long as it's with you.”

Chris smirked at me as I hiked my legs up over his hips, crossed my ankles, and squeezed him slightly with my thighs. He slowly moved within me, and I was reminded again of just how long it had been for me. The sting of straining to envelope his size made me wince and grip his back firmly. He was going as slow as I knew he could contain himself, but it still burned.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Chris moaned. “Bree, you feel incredible. You're so fucking tight.” He stopped his slow rhythmic movement, and looked at me with an expression that was both amused and curious. “You're not a virgin? I mean, it's okay if you are. I don't mind.”

I laughed. “No, I am not a thirty-one year old virgin. I'm not _that_ anti-social. Trust me, I wasn't lying to you when I said it's been a while...and by that, I mean it's been almost three years.”

“Okay, I believe you. You're just so damn tight, that's what it's reminding me of.” He smiled at me devilishly. “But I honestly wouldn't mind if you were a virgin.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and giggled. “Oh? And why is that?”

Chris kissed me softly as he pulled back, then pushed into me again slowly, and kept going until his entire length was as deep as it could be inside of me. The sting remained, but somehow the pain of his size suddenly made the sensation even more pleasurable. I couldn't help but loudly moan his name.

He kissed my throat, then grazed my skin with his teeth. “I wouldn't mind if you were, because then you would be _completely_ mine.”

I quivered at the low growl of his voice. My inner feminist didn't stand a chance against this particularly old-fashioned, dominating display of male ownership. I _wanted_ him to claim me as his own, and no one else's.

“I am,” I whispered. “I'm yours. You're not the first to have me, but...” I hesitated on my words. Somehow I got the impression he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Chris smirked. “I don't need to be the first, but I would like to be the last.” He kissed me deeply, then buried his face against my throat, nuzzling and nipping at my skin. “And you're going to be the last to have me.” He spoke so quietly, I wondered if he had even said anything at all, or if I was just imagining it.

I didn't know what to make of it. “Chris? I-”

He cut off my words with a kiss and resumed his slow gentle movements, rolling his hips into me. Each stroke stung less and less.

“Harder. Faster.” I whimpered.

Without hesitation Chris began to pick up his pace. He slid one hand underneath my ass and squeezed it firmly, murmuring how much he loved it.

“Do you want me to turn over so you can see it?” I asked him with a grin.

He smirked. “Next time. Tonight I want to see your face.”

His eyes were locked with mine the entire time, and a rush of warmth spread through my body from the way he looked at me. His gaze was filled with much more than lust: adoration, devotion, protection. They held an intensity that silently spoke to me: _I'll protect you. You're safe with me._

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, slowing down momentarily to check on me.

“Yes. Don't stop, Chris,” I replied breathlessly.

All of the pain I previously felt had melted away. I was loud yet again – probably even louder than before – and he certainly was too. Every motion elicited a loud moan from him and he called out my name repeatedly. My mind was reeling at the sensory overload, and it wasn't just from experiencing the electric sensation of good sex again – it was experiencing it with _him_. If his skill at making love was any indication, I couldn't even imagine how amazing he was when he _fucked_.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” Chris growled as he continued his rapid thrusts, his momentum never faltering. He moved one hand to my clit and began to rub me gently, gradually building up pressure. “I want to watch you again. Cum for me, Bree.”

I couldn't even find the words to respond before I came again, and again – and maybe a fourth time too. Who knows? I was so lost in the waves of euphoria he kept washing over me, I lost track of everything else. Every stroke of his cock, every kiss on my throat, every grab at my thighs, my ass, my breasts, my hair – it seemed physically impossible for him to not have his hands on me – felt like surges of electricity coursing through my body. His stamina amazed me; by the time my final orgasm rocked my body, I was spent while he was still going. I couldn't take it anymore – but at the same time, I never wanted him to stop.

Chris looked deep into my eyes, his brows furrowed in pleasure, his face flushed and sweaty and strands of hair falling across it. “Bree, sweetheart, I'm gonna cum. I can't hold it anymore.” He spoke so desperately, he practically whimpered.

I couldn't help but laugh quietly to myself – as if he needed to keep holding back after already giving me several orgasms. I grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him hard. “Then let go. Cum for me. Cum inside me, Chris.”

At my command Chris moaned loudly, every muscle in his body tensing up as he thrust into me one last time and let his own climax finally overcome him. He grabbed a chunk of my hair with one hand, and with the other gripped my thigh tightly. He moaned and breathed heavily for several seconds as he filled the condom, then quieted as his body gradually relaxed.

“Bree...” Chris whispered as he nuzzled the side of my face. He slowly pulled out, took the condom off with a wince and balled it up inside a tissue from the nightstand, then laid beside me and pulled me into his arms.

He kissed my forehead and rubbed my back as his breathing slowed down. “That was... _fuck,_ I don't have the words to describe it either.”

I giggled and ran my hand across his firm chest, tracing over his tattoos with my fingertips. “I finally thought of a few for myself: best sex I've had in years.”

Chris laughed. “It was the best sex I've _ever_ had.”

“Oh, stop. You don't need to lie and reassure me that I'm the best out of hundreds.”

“I'm not lying. You _are_ the best...and my number isn't _that_ high, you know.”

“Mmhmm, sure it isn't.” I smirked at him.

“Alright, believe whatever you want. But in that case, if I'm a manwhore, then you were a virgin and I got to be the first.” He grinned as I laughed and playfully smacked his cheek.

I nestled against his chest and he nuzzled the top of my head. I heard him breathe in the scent of my hair just before he placed a gentle kiss there.

We laid wrapped up together beneath the sheets in comfortable silence for several minutes. Just as my eyes were beginning to grow heavy and sleep threatened to take me, I felt a sudden shift in his energy. His breathing became a little bit shallower, and his heartbeat quickened. He squeezed me tighter in his arms.

“I love you, Bree,” Chris said softly in my ear.

My heart jumped. I wasn't surprised – I knew he had meant to say it earlier, and I knew those same feelings had been lurking within me too for months, even though I had pushed them down, telling myself it was too soon; that I was just being ridiculous and caught up in puppy love.

I was ecstatic to finally hear how he actually felt about me, but also fearful it wasn't true. How could he know that already? How could _I_ know already? Wasn't this whole thing turning into too much of a ridiculous cheesy fairy tale, those mere fantasies of love that only existed in stories? My eyes watered.

“Don't say that to me unless you mean it,” I replied as I sat up and looked away.

He sat up as well, then gently grabbed my chin, turned my face towards him, and looked at me seriously. “I never say anything I don't mean – _ever_.” He brushed his thumb across my lower lip and kissed me tenderly.

“ _I love you,”_ Chris said to me emphatically, as if to make sure I fully understood those three words that were so foreign to me. “I've known for months that I love you, long before the day I finally kissed you. I just didn't find the courage to tell you until now.”

Tears fell down my cheeks before I had the chance to hold them back. He wiped them away with his fingertips. “Hey, hey. What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“It's just...I can't remember the last time I heard someone tell me they love me.”

Chris pulled me into his arms again and held me firmly against him as we both laid back down facing each other. He kissed my forehead, then stroked the side of my face. “Well, get used to hearing it all the time from now on. I'm going to tell you every day, even if you don't love me back.” He paused for a moment, then looked at me with a hint of anxiety. “Do you? Do you love me too?”

I smiled brightly at him. “Yes. Yes, I do. I love you too, Chris.”

Relief and joy washed over his face. He squeezed me a little tighter and kissed me, then chuckled. “I knew it. I was anxious for no reason.”

“How did you know I've loved you all this time? Am I really that bad at desperately trying to hide my true feelings from the world?” I gave him a cheeky smile.

He smirked. “Nah, you didn't give anything away. That's not how I knew you love me too.”

“Then how?”

Chris kissed me tenderly once more, then grinned. “Dodger told me.”


End file.
